A Game of Universe
by Maladicta
Summary: When the Luxury Space Liner they're traveling on is hijacked, Jack and Riddick find themselves thrust into the midst of a deadly game of cat and mouse. Where staying alive... is only part of the fun. Rewritten. R/OC. Post PB. AU by way of TCOR.
1. Hell's Angel

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined. I'd like some opinions on the new and improved chapters.

Note: Greetings readers, both old and new. During a fit of procrastination, in which I have taken leave of my novel, it has occurred to me that I should work on polishing my older fan fiction. Sometimes the work that you produce at 13 is not quite up to your standards when you're 20 and needs a little bit… more. I've left the original premise as it was, but have altered and improved things such as spelling, grammar, and scene descriptions (Oh the scene descriptions). I apologise to anyone who now gets a flood of updates in their inbox.

* * *

Lost in thought, Jack jumped as Riddick placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come on kid, Imam's got the tickets." He rumbled hand tightening reflexively as his eyes scanned their surrounds.

With a sigh Jack threw one last look at the spaceport that had been their home for the last few months. She had been terrified when they'd arrived. Terrified of this new place, terrified of Riddick abandoning them, and just plain terrified. But Riddick hadn't abandoned them. He'd stayed. Jack knew it must have been a struggle for him, overcoming his cut-n-run instincts to remain here, saddled with a fourteen-year-old runaway and a Mecca-Priest. She was glad he'd stayed though; this place was rough, with gangs of tough and desperate people filling the streets in the twilight hours which was all this planet offered in the way of darkness. The only reason they hadn't been worked over yet was Riddick. And now they were leaving, off to New Mecca - if by a rather round about route, to finish Imam's pilgrimage.

Jack approached the open doorway of the deep space transport cautiously. Caution, she had learned over the last few months, was a healthy instinct to nurture. She saw Imam sitting just inside the doorway; he was talking to a kid dressed in a porter's uniform, if you could even call it a uniform. Faded green slacks teamed with a an off-white shirt that had been washed so many times it was now an unmentionable shade of yellow, due mostly in part to the minerals in this planets water. But he was cute. With a grin Jack straightened her shoulders and picked up the pace. Her survival instincts were not the only things to have grown in the last few months.

Imam gave a welcoming smile when he spotted them "Here are your tickets," he said quietly, rising from his seat "And this is Cervis, he will be showing us to our cabin." Riddick glared suspiciously at the itinerant porter. He was one of about a dozen people working the shipyards today. Work was scarce here unless you were mech trained, and it had occurred to a number of the unskilled that if they couldn't find work, then they could at least make it. And they weren't above selling _all_ of the services they could offer. Riddick tried to suppress the protective rage he felt rise within him at the thought of the little weasel getting anywhere close to their party, especially young Jack. Adjusting his goggles slightly Riddick unconsciously flexed the muscles of his arms, causing his skin the ripple. The weasel however remained oblivious to the danger his smarmy attitude was courting.

"Right this way Sirs and," Cervis raised an eyebrow and winked at the youngest member of their travelling band, "Ladies." Jack tried and failed to hide her blush. Riddick had been keeping them pretty close in an effort to keep himself protected and their identities, and the fate of the doomed Hunter Gratzner quiet. It had resulted in her boyfriend related activities being somewhat curtailed, and Jack was eager to try out some of the tricks she had watched the Luna Ladies use to get their mark's attention. Riddick let out a low growl when he caught the look the upstart bag-rat was throwing Jack. Whether by luck of some residual mammalian knowledge of the inevitable consequences of a small fuzzy creature facing of against a wolf, the kid straightened up. Nervously, and even better silently, he loaded their bags onto a push-cart cobbled together from an old table and some filched speeder wheels. Bravado gone the skinny teenager led them deeper into the bowels of the liner.

...

Kirby came to slowly. Her ribs were on fire, but there didn't seem to be anything broken, though a fracture wasn't out of the question. She cautiously opened her eyes and took in her surrounds. She'd been handcuffed to a utility pole in the middle of the Luggage Compartment, which was a large, rather sparse space on the same level as the Kitchens. One of her guards was asleep nearby. Wincing Kirby tried to move her hands, but they were so swollen from the cuffs that she only succeeded in causing fresh trickles of blood to run down her arms. Her feet were cuffed as well, but as the idiots had cuffed her over her boots they were nowhere near as swollen as her hands, something she was decidedly thankful for. Her throat was parched and she was just about to call out something rude to the sleeping guard when her other captor entered. He was well built; blond, and looked like an angel from the All-god's Temple.

_He was a devil with an angels face_…

An old line of an even older song flashed like lightning through her mind, after last nights beating Kirby couldn't agree more. Angel walked over to the sleeping guard and kicked him awake.

"Now I know how you assholes lost her the first five times. Sleeping on the job!" Turning to Kirby's suspended form he continued, "My _partner_," and here the term was sneered into an insult "And I are going to breakfast. You may come along." He offered with what Kirby though of as his Shit-Eating-Grin, "And if you beg I may throw you some scraps to eat, like the bitch you are." Kirby clamped her lips together and tried not to cry out in pain as the Merc wretched her hands upwards; uncoupling the cuffs from the luggage hoop he surveyed her bloody wrists. Satisfied he stepped closer and used his much larger body to pin her against the metal pole, "You know,' he whispered, grinding his crotch into her stomach "Bondage turns me on." Gritting her teeth and unable to move Kirby had no choice but to feel exactly how 'turned on' the bent Merc was. She fixed her eyes on the pale arch of his neck and wondered, somewhat dispassionately, of she had enough strength to leaver herself upwards and rip his throat out with her teeth… but no, that wouldn't do, not at all. She didn't have a change of clothes…

Kirby contented herself with staring blankly ahead, refusing to give the Merc the satisfaction of a response "And…" he lowered his lips to the bloodied shell of her ear, so that only she could hear, "If it wasn't for that lazy slug over there, I would have fucked you six ways from Sunday by now." That said he grabbed Kirby by the back of the neck, and shoved her through the door.

...

Jack tried to contain her awe as they were led deep into the ships interior. Sleek plasti-wood paneling ran along the walls, while their footsteps were muffled by the thick syth-pet that covered the floors. It was more flash then she'd seen in her entire life, and certainly more then she'd ever seen on a ship. Her last space misadventure having started with the austere food-storage locker of the Hunter Gratzner and having ended with her being almost eaten by a flying dinosaur with teeth. If it weren't for Riddick she'd be nothing but fertilizer on a dying planet right now. They all would be.

Jack looked back at their solemn companion. Even now, surrounded by all of this, he was tense, eyes constantly scanning for danger, fingers twitching. Jack knew he didn't like small spaces, months of watching his reaction to his daily shifts in the mines, or rather his tightly controlled lack of reaction, had taught her that. She felt a stir of pity for him, not that she let it show. You didn't empathise with Richard B. Riddick; you were afraid of him, terrified even, but not empathetic to his never-acknowledged weaknesses. Taking a deep breath and gripping her courage tightly Jack dropped back and slipped her hand into his much larger one, and lightly gave it a small squeeze. Riddick's entire body tensed, though he didn't stop walking or break his stride.

After a minute he very slowly, and very carefully, squeezed back.


	2. Faces From The Past

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

"You hungry kid?" Riddick asked, hunkering down next to her in their small cabin. It was windowless, and contained a sanitation unit, one small couch that folded into a multipurpose table and three sleep tubes. They couldn't even afford cryo-chambers for this trip, so they were travelling it in real time. The Clarion Hilton it was not, but it was better then hiding in a storage unit on a doomed ship, so she thought it prudent not to complain. Jack looked up warily, Riddick had been working in the geo-mines and Imam had gotten work as a clerk to pay for their tickets off the small moon that supported the mining and transport colony they'd docked on. They'd sold the skif to pay for their moon-side accommodation. She hadn't known they had any credits left to spare for food.

"A bit." Jack acknowledged, unwilling to admit to hunger. Riddick raised his eyebrows; with his goggles on he looked absurd. Jack grinned at the sight, "Okay, a lot." She admitted with a sheepish smile.

Riddick felt better when he saw Jack smile. She'd changed a lot since the crash, her natural brashness had become more reserved, and she had retreated into herself. He wasn't sure this was the right thing to do, leaving her in the Imam's care, not that she knew that, but it was the only chance he could offer her at a normal life. He'd promised Carolyn that he'd keep her safe. And away from him was the safest place she could be.

"Okay," he agreed, "Let's go get some food. You want something Holy Man?" Imam shook his head at Riddick's offer, still engrossed in prayer; the younger man shrugged and followed Jack out the door.

...

Kirby watched as the other passengers looked away from their little party, some gasped, others sneered, but no one would meet her eyes.

_Wonder if they heard me screaming last night?_ She thought sardonically. Toffs were always uppity about excess noise. She should know - she used to be one.

Last nights symphony of screams could be the reason they wouldn't look directly on her, or it could be the sight of a girl, barely out of childhood, wearing Murders' Orange. Kirby unconsciously scanned the Dining Cabin, noting the placement of all the passengers and all the exits, existing and a combination of her early programming as well as a few things she'd picked up, despite the meds, in the quack-prison they'd dropped her in a few years back. A person had to be careful in a place like that - it was full of crazy people - not to mention the patients. A guy, head and shoulders above everyone else in the carriage caught her eye. Kirby smiled, despite her predicament, as her libido spiked.

_Yummy yummy- fresh meat._

It had been so long, - months really. The last had been that young mercenary on Helion. It was a shame he had broken so easily. But this one – oh he had muscles in all the right places, shown off exquisitely in his black synth-shirt. Kirby doubted he'd have any trouble keeping up with her.

_Down girl!_ A voice in Kirby's head cautioned, and she unconsciously pouted. She was always ruining her own fun.

Kirby knew that most men who looked that good knew it, and were usually as free with their fists as their lips. But that just made it more fun… in the end.

_The men that hit the hardest always fall the farthest…_

A movement to her right alerted her to Angel's shifting attention. He was staring fixedly at the large man's companion, it was the same look he'd given her a couple of times. An ice blue stare undressing you where you stood, sliding over your body like oil, making you feel as cheep as a slattern working the top rooms and as dirty as a gutter snipe. They were drawing level with the table.

...

Jack looked up to see what had caught Riddick's attention. It was a girl, heavy-limbed for such a tiny thing, and dead eyed. She was scanning the Cabin with a flat expression on her bruised face, and was dressed in an orange jump suit and hand cuffed to a chain held by the guy in front of her. Jack quirked an eyebrow and gave Riddick a nudge.

"Friend of yours?" She asked with a cheeky smile. Riddick broke eye contact and focused his attention back on his dining partner.

"No one I know." He said with an unconcerned twitch of lips.

"So what's got ya gazing at her?" Jack asked a hint of teasing in her voice. Jack hadn't seen Riddick so much a glance at a woman while they'd been on the colony-moon, not even the Luna Ladies. She half thought he might have been sly.

"I wasn't looking at her, I was looking at the Merc next to her." Riddick corrected, refusing to be baited. Riddick's eyes, hidden by the light filtering goggles, returned to rest unblinkingly on the Merc.

Jack looked again at the guy holding her chain. He was a Merc! She'd thought he was one of the local enforcers, like on the moon they'd just left. Jumped up bullyboys and gang leaders the lot of them. Using their Council given badges as an excuse to beat, rape and extort the local populace into submission, they were often worse then the scum they were supposed to protect against. Good citizen's tax credits at work. Jack bent her head, addressing her question to the tabletop.

"Shouldn't we get out of here? Like now?" She whispered tightly.

"Relax," Riddick said quietly, squeezing her hand to reassure her, "They're not here for us. First rule of the graft - A thief runs when no one chases him." The Merc was drawing level with them now as Jack tried to puzzle out the meaning of Riddick's advice, whilst simultaneously trying to fathom how the large convict across from her knew kids street cant.

...

Kirby knew of many a girl to be seduced by Angel's charming facade, at least until he'd gotten them into the bedroom and they realized how wrong they'd been. But she was just a child! And she looked a little like Amy…

Oh All-God. _Amy_.

Kirby steeled her mind against the broken onslaught of images that rushed behind her eyes. She could never be sure if it was the programming or just residual emotional trauma that did it, but there were times when her disjointed memories were frighteningly easy to trigger and if she wasn't careful, they' cripple her. Kirby twisted her wrists against the restraints until pain slowed the images flow to a mere trickle.

_I so know I'm gunna regret this..._

With an inward sigh she turned to Angel, who had slowed down to gaze at the table's occupants. Dredging up a look of disbelief and disgust wasn't hard, but modulating her voice to be heard by the entire Cabin without actually yelling was a little more difficult. Good thing Father had paid for all of those elocution classes when she had been a child. Kirby tilted her hips slightly to shift her weight for what she suspected was coming, the damn ankle cuffs making any actual movement almost impossible. Tilting her head slightly to the side Kirby opened her mouth.

"Oh God, don't tell me little girls turn you on as well? You know you're one sick fuck!" Despite her planning, she didn't see the elbow in time to avoid it. The next thing Kirby knew she was on her knees, gagging as the blood from her broken nose ran down the back of her throat. With a sneer she spat a mouth full of blood onto Angel's pretty shoes. Kirby raised her head defiantly, in spite of the throbbing of her face. "And they said I was insane." With a growl Angel let his boot get acquainted with her jaw, giving Kirby a free trip about the universe and a goodly look at all the stars.

"For your personal safety I advise all diners to exit the cabin now, you are viewing a unstable convict who is still extremely dangerous." Angel announced, threateningly.

Most of the occupants Dining Cabin jumped up and started hurrying towards the exit. The object of Angel's affection was now staring at him in thinly veiled fear. Kirby allowed herself a small smile of triumph.

Murderer: 1 Merc: 0

If she kept going like this she'd be ahead of the game. Mother always said she was special.


	3. Honor Amoung Thieves

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

Riddick turned to Jack as soon as the woman in chains started to speak. He recognized the Merc now, the sadistic son-of-a-bitch had picked him up during one of his early sprees, killing the Merc who'd made him and taking the glory and the pay day for himself. Asshole liked to use a little too much of the whip and more then one of his paydays had come back DOA due to unsuccessful 'escape attempts'. Riddick felt a small stir of sympathy for his young prisoner, 'cause he always thought Smith was a closet rapist anyway. Rising, Riddick tried to slip past them, but the woman's other guard was in the way. Inserting a hand under Jack's arm Riddick deftly guided her up, and moved her behind him, not planning for things to go bad, but ready in case they did.

...

Kirby caught the girl's sudden upward movement and watched, bemused as her… escort placed himself protectively in front of her. She felt a twitch as her mind unconsciously recognised the dominant facial features of the man in front of her.

_Now why does that guy look so familiar? _She thought distractedly, her mind attempting to place the figure by running it against the thousands of images burned into her cortex, courtesy of the one uninformed decision that she would pay for until she died.

She watched as he tried to edge past Fatso without looking like he was trying to edge past Fatso. He was intimidating, that's for sure, and those goggles were weird, especially with that shaved head, it made him look like Moonie or an ex-con.

_Hmmm…_ something deep in Kirby's mind reacted to that brief surface thought. Another group of images were brought forth for comparison.

From her position on the Dining Cabin floor Kirby watched with interest the dark haired girl and her reaction to the Merc's. She was stiff, breathing shallowly, and her eyes were wide. She was scared Kirby realized with an internal smile. Most girls admired and adored Merc's, on duty or off; they symbolized danger and excitement, freedom… but not this girl. Not this one. She was different…

_Well, it's always possible to have too much of a good thing, _Kirby thought to herself.

She watched as the yet unidentified passenger again tried to make his way past Fatso, who was oblivious to all except the fact that he was surrounded by free and uncontested food, and that his prisoner was standing in the way of him enjoying that. Kirby thought that if his bushy eyebrows came any further over his piggy eyes that only way he'd be able to eat would be by touch alone. Though it wasn't likely to slow him down any. Angel chose this time to apply his now much less pretty boots to her ribs, obviously thinking that they were lonely and feeling left out of the fun. Kirby involuntarily curled into a ball as the toe of Angel's boot found a rib and broke it.

_You know he looks a bit like Riddick … Oh!_ Her mind jumped to the image and its attached file, but Kirby had more pressing things to deal with then dossiers at this moment. She flagged it for later review before bringing her concentration back to the here and now.

Kirby little out a small giggle at the cleverness of her own mind, though it came out sounding more like a choked gargle. She knew she'd seen him somewhere before! She watched as Riddick tried to get past again, this time Angel caught the movement. Turning he regarded Riddick with a perplexed expression, Kirby had come to think of this as his Thinking face. Like his Shit-Eating-Grin nothing good came from it. It looked like things were about to become… complicated. Angel might have been a sadist, but he wasn't stupid. And he had a mind like a steel trap for little niggling details, like names and faces.

Kirby gave a mental chuckle that felt more like a sigh to her aching body.

_Who ever said there was no honor among thieves? _

Catching what she thought was Riddick's eye behind his goggles she raised her hand and blew him a bloody kiss.

...

Riddick felt like growling, but he knew that would draw attention to him and, in turn, Jack, so he tried once more to calmly and discreetly get past the lard-ass blocking the way. He would have gone around, but in their haste to leave the Dining Cabin a number of passengers had tipped over tables and chairs, turning the way behind into a nightmarish maze unsuited to a subtle and sneaky escape. The idiot fat Merc seemed oblivious to them, but Riddick didn't want to bet on how long he was going to remain distracted by the stage show. He'd caught the tail end of the look Smith had given Jack and it was all he could do to restrain himself from ripping the asshole's head off. On his last attempt to get by he'd caught Smith's attention. He saw the puzzlement on the guy's face and hoped it stayed, though that was doubtful. Smith was a son-of-a-bitch, but stupid he was not. Riddick was just about to pull the shiv strapped to his middle back when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Looking down he watched perplexed as the woman on the floor blew him a kiss.

...

_Johnny you better move your ass…_ Kirby thought desperately, trying to steel her aching body against the pain that was to come.

Taking a deep breath she called on all the skills she had learned in the Pen's and Med-Locks, as well as those that had gotten her thrown in there in the first place.

_Looks like 'Ripper' gets to come out and play after all… what fun!_

Rolling onto her back she scissored her legs upwards, catching Angel full in the crotch. Drawing her knees up to her chest Kirby ignored the screaming of her ribs and swung her legs around like a rotor, sweeping Angel's feet out from under him and placing herself on her stomach. Using her wrists for leverage Kirby rose to her feet, turning she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Fatso seemed to have woken up. In one smooth movement that caused her vision to dance dangerously Kirby elbowed him in the throat; her wrists screamed in pain - they were still attached to the chain the Angel held. Fatso dropped, gasping. Kirby had to stiffen her spine to stop from doing the same. Luckily her rage was stronger then the pain.

_And now you sadistic son-of-a-bitch…_

Kirby started to put the boot into Angel's ribs, as best as she was able, being hampered by her leg irons. Angel was reaching for his baton despite her attack. It wouldn't be long now. Kirby hoped Riddick had taken her cue, because she had nothing left to spare him now. Grimly she wiped the blood from her face as she delivered a kick to Angel's right knee as he struggled to rise. Fatso, largely out of the fight until now, was reaching for his Stunner from his prone position on the floor…

...

Riddick started moving as soon as the woman made her move. Grabbing Jack's arm he strode past Lard Ass as he was chocking on the floor and headed towards the door. Pushing Jack through ahead of him he turned and gave the woman a two-fingered salute. She was military - once, or had at least trained as a solider, she deserved that small indication of respect. He watched as her eyes widened slightly at his gesture. That lapse in concentration cost her the fight. Snarling Smith used his all-purpose pointing, poking, belting, tripping, and bashing stick to knock her feet out from under her. As his baton came down on her right shoulder she raised her chin slightly and extended her left arm parallel to her body, knuckles down. Riddick nodded curtly, and then turned on his heel and left her to her fate.


	4. New Friends

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

Kirby woke to the gentle and completely unexpected ministrations of someone bathing her face. With a moan she tried to shove the painfully helpful hands away.

"Stop it!" hissed a voice, gently pushing her swollen hands back down towards her chest. One of Kirby's eyes was swollen shut; it was here that the stranger was focusing most of their interest, trying to clean it of the blood that crusted around the wound on her brow bone. Female. It - she, was definitely female.

"Who are you?" Kirby whispered through her split lip, careful to keep her voice as low as the unidentified figure. She was obviously whispering for a reason, so Kirby guessed that her captors weren't currently in residence. All in all she would like to keep it that way. Kirby tried to settle her tight muscles, focusing on opening what appeared to be her one good eye.

"It's me, Jack. You probably don't remember, from the Dining Cabin…" an image of the slim young girl flashed behind her eyes.

"Angel's new toy." Kirby offered, her mind, satisfied that her legs still worked, began thinking about standing, or at least sitting up.

"Excuse me?" She could here the confusion in the girl's voice.

"The Angel of Death took a long look at you girl, he wants you, so you better stay close to that gorgeous Daddy you're travlin' with." Kirby advised, succeeding in opening her eye. She was back in the Luggage Compartment. Figured. No one ever took her anywhere nice.

"I don't understand." The girl said, moving to rinse the stained scrap of cloth in a cup of water. Kirby winced as she sat up, the room started spinning, but her perseverance paid off, she turned to the girl who was watching her warily.

"Child sex is legal in one of the five systems we're currently travlin' through. Wanna make a guess at which one we're in now?" Seeing that the girl was still confused Kirby tried again.

"If you aren't willin' girl, he ain't gunna give a damn, he'll take you anyway. You understand? And no one will do a damn thing about it." Kirby watched as the girl, Jack, she reminded herself, nodded her head, a shadow in her eyes.

_That's if you haven't been took already by Riddick here. Rape is only a crime in about two hundred systems and it's debatable every time._

Kirby could hear Johnny in her head, talking in that fatherly, superior tone of his:

_It's none your business Bee, you should stay out of it…_ his voice was scratchy with disuse. Not quite the same as the real thing but close enough.

_Never could follow your advice Johnny-boy._ Kirby thought with a smile. It had been so long since she'd heard his voice... but she would see him again. Soon, very soon.

"What are you doin' here anyway girl?" Kirby croaked, pleased to find that none of her teeth were broken. She continued her mental check as she listened for her answer.

Broken rib… not good. If I've got a floater we might have some real problems… it would be a moot point once he got to the Falcon. If she got to the Falcon…

"We're going on a… a pilgrimage, to New Mecca." The girl stuttered somewhat unconvincingly. Kirby's lips quirked at her stumble - someone wasn't used to telling lies. She felt her skull, or tried to, cuffs weren't the best things for checking broken bones. Luckily the flesh around her wrists had gone numb. No pesky spasms to hinder the process, though she was clumsier then she'd like.

No splits… better then expected

"New Mecca, interesting destination." Kirby said, smiling to herself as she checked her nose. It was in an unfortunate state. "But I s'pose that goes with the company, right?" she steeled her shoulders, while relaxing her facial muscles; this was going to be… unpleasant.

"I don't know what you mean." Jack stalled, trying to think if she'd done anything to give Riddick away. It appeared that the girl could read minds as well as being seemingly indestructible. She'd taken that beating like a pro. Kirby smiled, then took a breath and quickly slid the cartilage of her nose back into place. The tang of blood brought her down from the pain high as Jack gagged.

"Don't worry kid, won't nothin' you said, or did for that matter. Big bastard's easy to spot, once you place the face." Kirby said in a reassuring voice. Jack shivered, nauseous and Kirby frowned at herself. Obviously she would have to practice that one. Reassure. Reassuring. Reassured. She remembered being that way once, long ago… She tried again.

"You were very circumspect." Kirby offered. Jack's shoulder muscles relaxed somewhat and Kirby mentally congratulated herself. She was getting better at this.

"So you know I'm traveling with…" Jack trailed off, even in the face of discovery unable to break Riddick's confidence.

"Richard Brian Riddick. Yeah I know." Kirby pulled his full name from the miasma that was her mind. She noticed Jack's still nervous expression

"Don't worry none kid, I ain't gunna spring ya." She said reassuringly

"Why not?" Jack asked, curious despite herself. It seemed to her that the beaten convict had more to gain from her captors by revealing their secret then remaining silent.

"Why?" Kirby asked with a still bloody grin.

That simple query left Jack stumped, but she decided that the woman across from her had asked enough questions. It was her turn.

"Why are you locked up?" Jack asked, her eyes challenging. Despite her expression she dipped the soiled cloth in the now red water and handed it over.

"Why not?" Kirby countered with another disarmingly mad smile. Jack leveled an exasperated glare at her, privately wondering exactly how sane her new 'friend' was. Kirby laughed.

"Fine girl, have it your way. I'm locked up so that I don't hurt anyone, namely that cock suckin', mother fuckin', child rape'n piece a…"

"I get the point." Jack cut in attempting to halt the string of expletives she half though were engendered to offender her enough that she'd leave. The girls eyes however had taken on a mad look and her teeth were bared an animalistic snarl.

"Glad someone does. 'Cause I ain't got a fuckin' clue." The snarl was replaced be another guileless smile. Jack looked at her companion warily, not sure if it was a joke, and if it was, whether to laugh or not. The moment passed.

"What'd you do?" Jack asked, curious in spite of herself. The Merc's little spiel earlier had piqued her indomitable curiosity.

"What I had to." Kirby answered coldly, thoughts dancing back to that long ago time. Her numbing fingers tightened around the bloody rag.

"And that was…?" Jack prompted, glad that there was a significant space between herself and the rag-twisting-psychopath.

"We're an inquisitive little brat aren't we?" Kirby snapped in another lighting quick change of mood.

"To bloody right, besides," Jack pointed to the cuffs that were locked around Kirby's ankles and chained to the floor. "You ain't goin' nowhere."

Kirby gave a bark of laughter; she was starting to like this kid, annoying as she was.

"If you must know," Kirby took in Jack's eager expression, "And by the looks of it you must, I'm heading for Hubble Bay - MedLock." Jack's eyes widened. MedLock – Medical Lockdown was where only the most unstable criminals were kept. There were rumors, about experiments… slavery… torture… All in all Jack figured it was somewhere she never wanted to be.

"That's where you're going, not what you did to get there." Jack prompted, refusing to be distracted

"Won't you listenin' when Angel gave me an intro in the Dining Cabin?" Kirby asked, exasperated.

"Sorry, I had other things on my mind." Jack said sarcastically, reminding Kirby about who and what those thoughts had been

"Right..." Kirby agreed; mind distracted for a completely differed reason this time.

"Who'd you kill?" Jack asked with somewhat ghoulish glee. Kirby gave a bitter laugh at Jack's enthusiasm. Had she ever been that young? She must have been, at one time or another, or she wouldn't be here now.

"I think the question's more 'who didn't I kill?'. Where were you 'bout this time two years back?" Jack shot Kirby a suspicious look.

"I can't remember," she said evasively "Why?" A noise at the entrance of the compartment startled them both.

"Because that when she went on a killing spree. Isn't that right darlin'?"

Kirby stared up in a combination of annoyance and shock at the figure of Angel, who was leaning nonchalantly in the doorway. Pig-Fucker. He was always butting in where he wasn't wanted.

With a smile Angel stepped through into the compartment and hit the automatic lock.

Kirby scowled fiercely, despite the fact that her stomach had dropped, _All those in deep shit, please raise your hand…_


	5. Mum's The Word

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

Riddick jerked awake, heart pounding and breath coming in gasps. It had been that dream again, that damned planet. Marooned on Hades, death stalking him at every angle. Carolyn, so warm and soft, and then the smell of her blood as it hit the air, coppery, sweet – beautiful. The mud and the blood and the shit from those who had already died and been partially eaten by the Bioraptors. They'd been depending on him, trusting him, needing him. And he'd turned, dropped the light and walked away. The animal inside him was unused to responsibility, to _family_, so it kept showing him his other options. The options where he'd cut and run - got free of these civilians. And every night in his dreams he watched as the demons tore Carolyn from them, ripped Jack limb from limb, shredding her pale flesh from her bones, ate the hands and heart with which Imam used to pray to his useless All-God. And he was powerless to stop it happening. Riddick felt the slick fear-sweat dry on his body as he quietly pulled himself from the sleep tube to avoid waking Imam. Silently he stalked to the couch where Jack had taken to sleeping of a night. It was empty, as was her sleep tube. She still hadn't returned. Riddick, over shadowed by the taunting ghost of the dream, clenched his fists as anger built within him. She was his damn it! His to feed, his to clothe, his to protect. If she was off on some lark he swore by all that was unholy he would give her the flogging of her young life – teenager or not. And if there were something else, someone else, keeping her from him, he'd tear them apart with his bare hands to get to her. Grabbing his goggles Riddick started for the door.

...

In three swift steps Smith had Jack by the back of the neck. Smirking her pulled her too her feet

"Now what's a girl like you doing in a place like this?" He asked, jerking her head back and lowering his mouth to the side of her neck, nipping her pale skin with his teeth and smiling at her flinch.

"Trying to get away from a sick fuck like you maybe?" Kirby answered for her, grabbing the utility pole and pulling herself grimly to her feet. With a growl Smith turned to Kirby. Seizing her by the collar of her now less then orange jump suit he pulled her close.

"After I let you watch me do her, I'll do you, slut. And I guarantee you wont enjoy it." Leaning forward Smith grabbed Kirby by her still swollen jaw and crushed his lips to her mouth. He stepped back, mouth bloody from Kirby's earlier wound, "That useless tub of lard can't save you now. Thanks to you he's in the Medical Bay."

"Pity you're not there with him," Kirby sneered back, struggling against the chains binding her feet. Futilely she tried to raise her knees high enough to hit his groin. It was a wasted exercise. Angel leaned closer in

"You know, I think I might just start this party right now," he whispered against the side of her cheek

"Over my dead body!" Kirby growled, pulling away and spitting the taste of him from her mouth.

"Never fucked a dead woman, but hey, a cunt's the same whether it's hot or cold. Right?" Angel taunted back, tightening his grip on Jack.

Desperately Kirby tried to think of anything that would distract Angel long enough for her to review a plan of escape that could be adapted to their current situation. She couldn't stand by and watch this happen again. Not again. Not to Amy. Jack. Amy. Kirby's rage was rising and her grip on realty was beginning to slip…

"Please… I'll do whatever you want," Kirby simpered, trying to hide her sneer as she bargained for Jacks life, "However you want, if you'll just let her go." Angel laughed at her desperate plea.

Moving away from Kirby he began to run his hands over Jack's body, which he now held pressed up close against him. Kirby watched as a tear slipped silently down her cheek. The poor girl was terrified. Just like Amy had been.

"You know I believe you would." Angel said with a delight smile, "But you see, I'm in a win-win situation here. The girl's no problem and you, well you're all tied up." Kirby's mind, on fire with pain and fast being consumed by incoherent rage, tried vainly to produce a response as Jacks terrified eyes looked on.

"But wouldn't you rather a willing woman then an unwilling child?" The words slid from her lips like oil. "The things I could do for you, the things you could do to me. I don't break easy you know…" Kirby trailed off seductively. She could see the lust in Angel's eyes when he looked at her. Now all she had to do was use it. But how?

_Patience is a virtue…_ her mother's words, oft repeated to her as a child, danced through her ears._ Yes mother…_ her mind whispered in response

"Really? And just how willing would that be?" Angel inquired, intrigued despite himself.

"As willin' as you wanted. Sir." Kirby said sweetly, swallowing a sneer. If there were any justice in the universe Angel would have died as a result of her sickeningly sweet response. In reality he looked darkly intrigued by the suggestion. Kirby's eyes barely moved as she took in Angel's infinitesimal release of Jack's neck. His fingers were loosening slightly as he thought over her proposal.

_Just a little more…_

"Tell me why I should have you do me first? Hmmm?" Angel inquired, sarcastic in his teasing, but tempted in spite of his misgivings. He had seen for himself how difficult she was to injure, having attempted to beat her into submission on more then one occasion.

"'Cause I'd make it so good for you." Kirby tried to make her voice as husky as possible as her limbs started to shake from repressed tension. She knew this! Why was it suddenly so hard? Kirby struggled vainly against the rage that was chocking her, trying to control her. Now was not the time to go berserk. After all, many of the men that Johnny had sent her after had _fallen_ under her charms. She could do this. Angel's interest was slipping and his grip on Jack was tightening. Kirby accidentally met Jack's terrified eyes and was catapulted back to another set of eyes that had looked at her with the same fear.

* * *

Amy stared at Kirabee with terrified eyes, one of which was beginning to swell shut. Blood matted her beautiful red hair.

"Please don't make my sister watch." She pleaded, begged really; she'd been on her knees at the time. Kirabee was silent, whether from fear or pain Amy couldn't tell. "Please?" Amy tried again to reason with her captors.

"Now you have to understand, we're not doing this because of you. It's because of your brother. If he were here none of this would have to happen. You haven't regained your memories yet have you?" Amy looked over at her little sister whose eyes, previously so fearful, were now fierce with determination. Kirabee looked Amy directly in the eye and shook her head. Amy could almost hear her repeating their lessons in family history.

Blood is thicker then water, sister…

"Fuck you." Amy snarled, raising her chin defiantly.

"Oh no my dear, that's your pleasure." The white haired young gentleman said, smile never reaching his ice-cold eyes. Amy watched as four of the men that had entered their cruiser the previous cycle started unbuttoning their pants. The white haired man stood behind her sister and held her tightly.

Tears started to leak silently out of Kirabee's eyes...

* * *

With a brittle smile born of pure determination Kirby purred, "But don't you want even a little taste of the merchandise?" Angel's eyes blazed with heat and Kirby knew her voice had hit him right where it counted - between his legs. Angel dragged Jack over by the hair; roughly he pulled at the buttons that kept her jump suit closed, opening the suit down to her navel and exposing her bra clad chest to the ships recycled air. Grabbing Kirby's left breast Angel squeezed experimentally. Kirby let out a fabricated growl of pleasure.

She set her handcuffed hands behind his head and tilted her body, leaning in closer, forcing Angel to grab her other breast to keep his balance. Without taking his eyes off her Smith threw Jack to the ground. Kirby didn't spare the girl a second glance as her eyes reflected back at Angel all the fire burning in his. Jack was alive that's all she needed to worry about. With a dangerous smile Kirby leaned closer still. Pressing her mouth to Angel's she sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and nipped playfully. She _felt_ how much he liked that. Angel pulled back slightly before moving to slam his mouth down on hers, turning his tongue into the manifestation of his will and plundering her mouth.

_I wonder if it'd spoil the mood if I threw up?_ Kirby thought abstractedly, as she tried not to choke on Angel's tongue.

Eyes open she counted the number of grey hairs in Angel's hair. Catching sight of Jack still sprawled on the floor, Kirby made some exaggerated eye movements towards the door, but the girl seemed to be frozen in place.


	6. Patience Is A Virtue

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

Riddick spotted Imam seated quietly at the bar attached to their Compartment level.

"Thought you didn't drink Holy Man." He asked, voice a gravelly tease.

"I think, Mr. Riddick, that past circumstances warrant at least a little something."

Riddick looked down at the bottle, Ogilvie's Non-alcoholic Wine, and gave a snort. Figured.

"You seen Jack anywhere?" The larger man asked, attempting to appear unconcerned. He'd already checked the Dining Cabin and the Amusement Bay on the levels above and below them. There was no sign of her. She wasn't in the gym or the Holo-Vid Room either.

"No, not since yesterday." Imam took in Riddick's guarded expression. "Is something the matter?"

"Nah, just wanted to talk to her about something." Imam nodded, assuming Riddick was going to broach the subject of Jack remaining on New Mecca with him. "Look, if you see her tell her I'm looking." Riddick said, before turning away

"I will Mr. Riddick, of that you can be assured." Imam said, as he returned to his contemplation of the lure of the spirit that caused so many people so much trouble.

…

Kirby swallowed a gasp of pain as Angel squeezed her breasts hard enough to bruise, before dipping his head and brutally kissing her again. She winced as he forced his knee between her thighs. Jack still hadn't moved - foolish chit. Tears formed in Kirby's eyes, her body's response to the negative stimuli currently being applied. Jack still showed no sign of making good her escape. By her glassy eyed stare and pallid skin Kirby guessed she was in shock, which was something they didn't have time for right now. She may not have been able to save Amy, but by the Unhollies she was going to save Jack.

"Run Jack! Run!" Kirby shouted, her sharp words seeming to break Jack out of her paralysis. The traumatised young girl scrambled up off the floor and ran towards the door. When it didn't open automatically she began frantically pounded on the release button.

Nothing happened.

With a growl Smith spun around, incensed by the fact that one half of his prey was escaping, conveniently forgetting Kirby's hands behind his head.

_Good things come to those who wait…_

With a triumphant grin Kirby lifted her hands. Twisting, she brought the thin wire joining her cuffs down across Angel's exposed throat. Hot blood sprayed the walls, the floor, and Jack. Kirby could feel it soaking into her hair and running down under her jump suit, though she missed the worst of the arterial spray. How…inconvenient. With a smirk Kirby dropped Angel's still twitching corpse and licked her lips. Leaning down she striped him of his weapons and his handcuff keys. It was the work of moments to free herself from the now slick bindings, though her fingers felt like sausages and moved just as dexterously. Kirby strode to the door, grabbing Jack by the hair on her way past, she punched the over ride code into the locking unit. Turning she surveyed the scene, the twisted body, the blood spattered walls…the codes came courtesy of her brother, but the décor, well that was all her.

"What are you doing?" Jack sobbed, twisting to stare at her with dark accusing eyes. Kirby could practically feel the betrayal wafting off her like perfume.

"What I have to." Kirby answered, eyes cold and mouth hard.

…

"Hello passengers, as you might be able to tell this is neither of your captains speaking," The disembodied voice paused purposefully as its menacing tone echoed into the various Cabins, Carts and Bays of the transport, "This is mainly due to the fact of their extreme deadness. This unexpected spot of luck happens to leave me in full control of the vessel. What fun!" The voice exclaimed with a menacing giggle "We will be making a slight detour from our flight plan; we apologize for any inconvenience this might create. And if you're all good little travelers in the next two cycles, you will live to see your final destination, if not… well, you get the picture." A hissing, crackling sound replaced the voice, and then,

"Oh, and just in case we have any heroes out there, namely Big, Bad, and Bald, I beg you have a listen to my new friend." A girls terrified sobs could be heard, then silence.

"Remember, good behavior earns rewards. This is your captor signing off. Good Bye."

Kirby looked down into Jack's terrified eyes and smiled, "Don't worry precious, you're my leverage. I wouldn't go killin' you just 'cause some hothead decides he wants a high school named after him." A large bruise was forming along Jack's cheek bone from where Kirby had pistol-whipped her to make her cry for the broadcast.

"Why are you doing this?" Jack asked, terrified.

"Kid I'm currently doing many things, specify 'this'" Kirby snapped, irritated with the entire conversation. It served her right really, this was what happened when you let victims hang around. They got chatty. It was easier to kill them immediately instead of hanging on to them like pets.

"Holding me prisoner, taking over the ship?" Jack accused breathlessly, her sobbing momentarily subsided.

Kirby moved to a more comfortable position in the plush seat, her legs folded underneath her. The seat itself had once been a pale gray but the pilot's blood now stained it a rich burgundy. It was a colour she preferred. Pulling the knife free of the co-pilots body, that was still slumped, limbs akimbo, in the chair facing her, Kirby toyed with the idea of refusing to answer the captive girl at her feet. However she came to the conclusion that silence wouldn't provide nearly as much entertainment as the asked for explanation.

"I have an appointment to keep." Kirby said, glancing at the chrono on the dash.

_If all goes to plan, and everyone is on time…_ Kirby thought bitingly.

"In a few cycles all the passengers will be freed. You too." She added as an afterthought, "Though if I had realized how mouthy you were gunna' be I would have killed you before all this began." Kirby took in Jack's wide eyed gaze "Just kidding," she added as and afterthought, "Sort of."


	7. Once Upon A Time

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

"You wanna know why I'm doing this? Why I'm really doing this?" Kirby turned and looked out at the stars spinning madly past. "Revenge." With her eyes still fixed upon the stars Kirby began her tale. "Ya see, one day there was a family, and that family was happy. The Mother and Father had three loving children, the oldest, was a girl, her name was Amy, the middle child was a boy, and the parents called him Jhonathan, after his grandfather – tradition ya know? Their youngest child was – "

"You." Kirby turned back to look at Jack. She had forgotten for a second how astute the girl was, despite her earlier bout of shock.

"Yes. Me." Kirby turned back to the window and continued her tale. "One day when the boy grew to become a man, he and his father quarreled greatly about his future. You see, the father wanted his son to follow in his footsteps and become a great scientist like him, but the son, the son had other plans…"

_Didn't you just Jhonny_ Kirby thought silently _Didn't you just… and you damned us all… _

An unexpected spurt of guilt accompanied that thought. She owed her brother much; it was, after all, his careful planning that had gotten her out of the hospital, his money that was even now helping her wreak her revenge on those who had wronged their family, wronged her. He was her only family left now. She owed him.

_But what about all he owes you…_ whispered a voice inside her mind.

Quickly, so that she was unable to analyse that last traitorous thought, Kirby went back to her tale.

"Now one day the parents of the now two child family, the son having decided to seek his fortune far away from their sedate, intra-planetary home, traveled to a conference on Melbourne Station, near the Stralian System. But while they were away, something terrible happened…" She could hear it even now, the dreadful tearing pop, like that of a lung being burst by a jail-shiv, as the airlock doors had been breached. The pure overwhelming terror when they'd been found…

Without conscious thought Kirby's voice dropped.

"Bad men came… men who knew my brother, had worked with him. For my brother had not been idle with his time…"

_No, never idle were you brother dearest. You orchestrated the biggest Dilaudid ring in the Southern Sector of Amalgamated Space. God damn you for you sins…_

The last thought almost shocked Kirby out of her tale. What was wrong with her? She owed her brother so much! Why was she suddenly questioning him? Judging him?

_But when did he ever have to suffer…_ A new, more insidious thought slipped into her mind, whispered by the same voice as before.

Hurriedly, in an attempt to drown out its words, Kirby went back to her tale.

"He had run off with something of his employers, it wasn't his fault, he was just like that sometimes. If he had have known, he wouldn't have done it to them, not them, not his family." Kirby wondered suddenly why saying it out loud made the act seem ten times more heinous, made it seem like she was justifying what Jhonny had done, "Then he hid, and the bad men came looking for him. But they found us instead..."

…

"What do you mean jammed?" Riddick growled, deep in his chest. The tech he held by the shirt yelped audibly. He was pallid, rank with sweat, and very close to wetting himself. Riddick, Imam, the Docking Pilot and the technical analyst were current crowded around the door that let into the main hallway through which you could access the Cruiser's Helm.

"The doors are-" he gasped, "Not working. She must have the codes-" Riddick looked down at the little man he was holding, face hard

"What codes?" He asked with deceptive calm, tightening his fingers around the tech's throat.

"The access codes to the ship. They control everything - from the door locks to the Nav system. But I don't know them!" The tech squealed, trying to pre-empt Riddick's next question. "I swear. Only Main Hanger knows them." The young technician started to sob, so with a growl Riddick dropped him and began to stalk back towards the Luggage Compartment where the girl had been held. With a frustrated snarl he drove his fist in the cemnoplast wall. Damn that little bitch to hell. He didn't know what he thought had happened to Jack, well he did, but it definitely wasn't this. And she knew who he was as well, that much was certain, and much more besides. From making him in the Dining Cabin, to returning the correct military salute, while prone, to an officer of a superior rank. She knew he had been military, he could have sworn he'd seen the recognition in her eyes. And that was something about his past that few people ever found out – and lived.

…

Riddick gave an appreciative sniff when the lift doors opened, depositing him in the hallway in front of then Luggage Compartment, though it was the size of a Cabin and took up most of this floor of the Cruiser. The smell of blood was thick in the air, its metallic tang coating the back of his tongue like street sugar – thick and bitter - copperish. Slowly and thoughtfully Riddick walked the room, taking in the scattered luggage, the blood splatters, both old and new, as well as the still dripping spray coating the majority of the bags and walls. Riddick's eyes fixed on a pair of cuffs, held together by a chain and looped through a luggage hook on one of the utility poles. The cuffs themselves were covered in old, dry blood. He crouched down and picked up the unlocked pair of smaller blood soaked handcuffs, studying them carefully. A corner of his mouth twitched in appreciation. She was damn resourceful this girl, but she'd made one mistake. The little bitch hadn't kept her hands to her self. She'd taken something that didn't belong to her, something of his. No one took something of Richard B Riddick's… and lived.

And Jack was definitely his.


	8. Fire And Ashes

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

* * *

Jack looked across at her captor and felt a small stir of pity in her chest. Not about her story, living on the street she'd heard and seen far worse, but for the girl herself. She sounded so like herself, not that long ago; tired, lost.

Deluded.

She remembered saying similar things about Riddick when he had left them back on that planet. Not to convince the others, but to convince herself. Riddick had come back. Would Jhonny? For Kirby's sake, she hoped so.

_Scratch that _Jack thought, remembering the maniacal light in Kirby's eyes, _For our sakes I hope so_

Kirby, unaware of Jack's introspection, continued with her tale.

"We were alone, just Amy and me, she was supposed to be looking after me, but she wasn't feeling well, so I was looking after her…" Kirby looked up, her eyes haunted "They blew the airlock, stormed the hanger, the AI got fried… we hid, but they found us." Kirby's voice started to break "They hurt her, so badly, but we wouldn't tell, then they went away," a bitter laugh escaped her throat "A warning they said, for next time." Kirby looked across at the younger girl "I sealed us in, tried to fix her as best I could. She wouldn't – I couldn't touch her. She'd just scream when I tried. The Medi-Tec fixed her body, but nothing could fix her mind. I fed her, when she let me, and I waited, waited for mother and father to return, waited for someone. Anyone. But no one came.' Kirby swallowed convulsively, caught up in the tale. She wondered briefly why she was telling her story to a child, but it was almost like she was powerless to stop. Once the dam of her silence had burst the words were now gushing forth, ungoverned. At least they drowned out the whispering in her mind.

"The Nav. functions were fried, the EPIRB was disabled. We were dead. Dead in the black. And Amy… Amy wasn't well, and I couldn't fix her. No parents, no brother, no AI, no one…" She looked down into Jack's eyes as she trailed off, "I had to lock her away, lock her down. She kept trying to… hurt herself - to hurt me. I turned the holo-vids up to drown out her screams, but eventually the programming became corrupted… I had no choice… I had to down her out. The only vids left were the ones in the lab… in the chair…I jacked in, and logged off." Kirby flinched, remembering the long forgotten pain of her burnt out nerves. It had been horrible at first, like bleach to the brain, the things she'd seen... But soon enough she'd become used to them, the images flashed into her mind chosen specifically to desensitise, the phrases to train and trigger, the neuromuscular reprogramming imprinted on her synapses…

To a starving man even poisoned meat is a feast… She'd killed a thousand men before she'd even left the chair. Her father had been one of the most brilliant scientists in his field. And he was working on a training program that would revolutionise the way that the allied universe conducted warfare. But it was only a prototype… and it was… flawed.

"Jhonny found us, but it was…later. He said mother and father won't coming back, he said they'd gone on a trip, a long one. We tried to fix Amy – got her to a doctor, but we couldn't, something inside her had broken. I was different too, the game, had changed me – though I didn't know it then. Johnny got the ship codes, and others, for revenge he said, to get back at them for breaking Amy, to make them feel the same pain as they'd made me feel. And I did, oh I did..." When she closed her eyes Kirby could still feel their warm blood running down her face, their screams ringing in her ears.

"But, if you got revenge on them, got them back for all they'd done to you, why are you still so angry?" Jack asked, unable to believe the level of anger that was twisting up to soul of the bloody figure across from her.

With a growl Kirby flew out of the seat and grabbed Jack by the shirt, screaming, "Because I killed them! I killed them all. Their wives, their children... I spared none of them. Anyone who knew about it, anyone who heard about it. I killed them all."

_And I loved it, reveled in it,_ Kirby admitted silently to herself, _The perfect little solider… with a few unexpected… flaws._

"And?" Jack choked out, horrified by the unstable figure before her. Dead eyes stared coldly back at her. Jack couldn't help but draw back from the nothingness she saw in that frigid gaze. Kirby quirked her head, voice even, unnaturally so.

"They're still dead, she's still gone, and it still hurts." With a shuddering breath Kirby dropped Jack and wandered back over to the blood soaked pilot's chair, her mania, for the time being, contained "Revenge is like that. The taste of triumph turns to ashes in your mouth." Kirby stared blankly ahead, "Believe me, I know." Picking up the blood stained knife and began cleaning under her nails.

Jack didn't want to ask any more questions, knew she shouldn't in fact, in case she set her captor off again. But she couldn't help it, curiosity was burning across her tongue.

"Kirby, how did you get the access codes? The ones to _this_ ship?" Kirby looked up at Jack, confusion written across her face. Hadn't she explained this already?

"My brother of course, he helped me, even after the…accident. He got us away, gave me the codes, their names… the rest I learnt myself from the programs. I had to. I hated them all so much… I owe him now, you see? I owe him… he's the only family I have left."

Jack looked across at the girl in the blood soaked chair, by her guess she wasn't twenty yet, but she had been through so much, lost so much, her family, her innocence …

Her mind.

Suddenly Jack was glad of her own street upbringing. It wasn't grand by any stretch of the word

_But if that's what having a family means, you can take it an' jump._


	9. Hospital Visit

Disclaimer: I don't own the recognizable characters or places mentioned in this obvious work of fiction.

Enjoy and leave feedback if you are so inclined.

Author's Note: Wow –It's been eight years since I initially posted this fan-fiction on the site. Like the rest of my fan-fiction, it hasn't been forgotten, just postponed. I have spent the last few weeks rewriting the earlier chapters, both for continuity and because they were in gross need of improvement. I can't promise that future updates will be regular, but they will at least be coming. Welcome to all my new readers, and job well done to my old readers who even after all this time, have stuck by me. I really encourage everyone to reread this story as I have made a number of changes that will need to be reviewed for current comprehension of the story line.

* * *

Riddick slipped into the Med Bay, combat boots silent on the Plasti-Tiled floor. Anyone watching him at that moment would have been surprised by the amount of stealth that his large frame employed, but they would have been able to tell by his purposeful movements that he was on a mission. However there was no one watching and Riddick's passage remained unobserved. Silently he made his way past the rows of beds filled with those who had over indulged or over imbibed. The Med Bay was only open to passengers in the upper decks, and of those only those passengers who had purchased silver or gold tickets. Those on the lower decks were left to fend for themselves, especially if they had the poor taste to fall ill or worse, die, en route.

Moving silently Riddick crossed the room and made his way to the last bed, the only one without the specially made privacy curtains dividing the room. It seemed Mercenary Guild Badges only got you so far – but no farther. The Liner _was_ willing to treat him free of charge, but they were not willing to put out the fine linen while doing it. Riddick moved to pick up the BioStat Reader and proceeded to analyse the fat Merc's current health status. Apparently he was recovering from a crushed larynx as well as a number of broken ribs, and recovering slowly, especially without the aid of a Medi-Tec, which was a luxury reserved only for the rich. With a smirk he leaned forward and began punching commands into the BioStat Monitor hooked into the Merc's chest cavity. Task completed Riddick grabbed the Merc's IdentCard. Tucking it into his holster bag he rose and made his way silently out of the Med Bay. Turning Riddick allowed himself a small smirk as officers and orderlies ran down the hall towards the Med Bay, their intent focused on the convulsing form situated in the bed furthest from the door.

_Did not know who he was fucking with…_

…

Breaking into the Merc's Compartment was childs play, especially with the monitor's attention being held by the _issue_ he'd created in the Med Bay. That fat pig – Wallace, Riddick discovered when he checked the IdentCard, would die for his sins… eventually. Starting with the mismatched luggage Riddick began to search the Compartment. Halfway through his quest he found what he was looking for. The woman's physical file was impressive and surprising, most prisoner information was stored on the System, it was rare to find a prisoner who actually had a physical file, prone as they were to destruction and loss. Checking the Merc's Crono Riddick tucked the file, and its associated flags, into his jacket. Moving across the room to the desk it was the work of moments to hack into the System, the security codes on their Terminals almost non-existent. He needed to know what he was dealing with. People were always easier to kill when you knew what they were about. After twenty minutes he found what he was after. The data tag was short, and mostly unconfirmed, which was in itself… disturbing.

**BASIC INFORMATION**  
**Full Name: **Kirabee da Hoffmann.

**Alias:** Kirby; Ripper; Medical Prisoner 374-640-2988-4*  
**Gender:** Female.  
**Species:** Humanoid (unconfirmed).  
**Age: **21.**  
DOB:** 2655AD. Date unknown.**  
Nationality: **Multinational. Convict had no registered planetary citizenship.**  
Religion/ Cult Status:** Unknown.**  
Sector of Birth:** Primus Sector.**  
Status: **Alive. In (M) Guild custody. Prisoner en route to Hubble Bay Bio-Medical Asylum.  
**Languages Spoken:** Galactic – Common (unconfirmed).  
**Native Language:** Galactic – Common (unconfirmed).  
**Relationship Status:** Reginaldy fa Hoffman (Father). Status – deceased. Lianora ma Hoffmann – ne Scrivennola (Mother). Status – deceased. Jhonathan fa Hoffman (Sibling). Status – deceased. Amerelida da Hoffman (Sibling). Status – deceased. Parents killed in Storming of New Melbourne Station – cult affiliated. No associate relationships identified. Gang affiliation – Negative (unconfirmed).

A 'Warning' flag flashed across the terminal when Riddick hovered the curser above Kirabee's 'Relationship' Status.

**[WARNING]** Prisoner has a sworn vendetta against the Kumin Mafia and its associates. Not to be placed in General Containment.

A vendetta? This could prove interesting. Blood feuds had almost died out amongst the Upper Houses – it just wasn't civilised anymore. And as a Hoffmann she was definitely in the upper elite – my how the mighty had fallen. The Kumin Mafia on the other hand were a family based business large enough to rival a Guild. They were also one of the largest traffickers of Syth-drugs in the Amalgamated Galaxies, granted they were in decline. Riddick wondered idly how much of that current decline was as a result of the action of Kirabee – Kirby, he mentally corrected himself – he just couldn't imagine the woman using that Upper nominer. He imagined she could be very… determined, when she put her mind to it.

**PHYSICAL APPEARANCE**  
**Height:** 165 MIM (unconfirmed).  
**Build:** Light (unconfirmed).  
**Hair Colour:** Black (unconfirmed).**  
Eye Colour:** Black (unconfirmed).  
**Complexion:** Fair (unconfirmed).**  
Tattoos:** Bio-Scanner identifiers.  
**Distinguishing Marks:** Unconfirmed.

Riddick skipped over the physical indicators. Dyes and surgery made the physical data unreliable and he wondered idly why the System still required that type of information input. Though the Biometric Scanner marks were interesting, if she still had them. Most Prisoners knew to steer clear of the Branding Pen when they were first slotted, slight of hand, bribing the guards – or killing them in Riddick's case, anything to avoid the laser tattoos that recorded your ever changing prisoner number on your wrist. Kirby must have been young indeed when she was first locked inside. Too young to know to steer clear of the marker gun that's for sure.

**HEALTH  
Addictions:** Unconfirmed.  
**Allergies: **Unconfirmed.  
**Physical Ailments/Disabilities/Diagnosis: **Prisoner has been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder, Dissociative Personality Disorder, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dependent Personality Disorder… **[Continued]**

His eyes were caught by the list of diagnosed disorders on the file. They had to be opened in another widow there were so many. Riddick didn't bother reading them all. Get slotted long enough and picked up more then a few labels in relation to your failing psyche. After a while all the diagnosis and misdiagnoses were nothing but words in the System. The only thing that mattered, in the end, were those who died, and those who lived, by what ever means necessary.

**INCARCERATION HISTORY**  
**Education:** System Approved Testing (unconfirmed).  
**Incarceration: **Prisoner en route to Hubble Bay Bio-Medical Asylum.

Hellion Prime Penitentiary

Hebe Moon Medical Facility

Sisters of Devine Mercy Asylum

Kleidon Sun Penitentiary

**Talents/skills: **Prisoner often poses as an assassin for hire. Prisoner has no System recorded training.

Riddick shook his head at the list of Medical Containment Facilities and Asylums the Kirby had found herself in. If she wasn't crazy before she went in you could sure as hell lay credits on the fact that she was batty now. Most Prisoners were only sent to one or two Pens in their lives. They either served out their sentences and were released, or they died in containment. Or, like him, they escaped. And there were damn few prisoners that came close to matching him.

_Broke the mo__uld…_ Riddick thought with vicious satisfaction.

**COMBAT**  
**Demeanor:** Prisoner is of an unstable personality type and is highly aggressive **[Do not approach. ****Prisoner is extremely dangerous even when unarmed. Unpredictable. Do not corner. Call for reinforcements.****]. **  
**Fighting Techniques:** Prisoner employs an aggressive form of _Kali_ - a fighting style adopted by East Earthen Cults. Prisoner is able to utilise numerous weapons.

**RATING:**

5 stars. Top kill.

§100 000 GC

With a smile Riddick flicked the Terminal closed. So… a killer, and one that may be able to match him in fighting skills. This game would certainly turn out to be… interesting.

Very interesting indeed.


End file.
